


sea change

by cnaught



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Not Canon Compliant, can be read as mild fjorclay or pre-slash, pretty warm and fluffy, written between episode 96 and 97
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23338717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cnaught/pseuds/cnaught
Summary: He wonders if the relief he’s feeling is profound enough that it could radiate out from him like body heat. He’d like it to be so simple.-----------a soft (out of canon) conversation, just after the Menagerie
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Fjord
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	sea change

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to my first work for this fandom. I meant for it to be longer, but I kind of like the shape of it like it is. Reading it now really makes me miss what the world was like when I was writing it. I hope you are doing all right, whoever and wherever you are. ♥

It feels strange to leave his family behind. Before, as they left in drips and drabs like the slow creep of rot, it had hurt; now, leaving them in rented rooms above a bar in Uthodurn, it hurts again but different. He has been so afraid for so long that letting go of that fear is its own kind of ache, like releasing a muscle that’s been tensed too long. He’s not afraid at all anymore. It feels weird.

The Nicodrani sunset welcomes them back in casual splendor. They’ve purchased the needed components and settled in at the Lavish Chateau. Caleb and Nott, alone, work the spell to change her form; Jester entertains Luc with tales of their adventures (a little too loud), accompanied by Beau (a little too close), and Yasha hovers, looking gaunt, like a beggar with her face pressed to a window — not realizing that there is no glass keeping her out.

He hasn’t seen Fjord in a while.

There, on the balcony: a dark shape breaking the horizon. Looking out to sea. That seems right. Caduceus gives Yasha a subtle nudge of encouragement, and steps outside.

There is something about Fjord that is _supposed_ to be windswept, in the open air, not suited to humid jungles or caves stifled under the earth or echoing stone halls. (A forest? Maybe.) It’s probably the hair, now that it’s grown a bit longer. Caduceus likes it. Yellow eyes track his approach warily, but Caduceus just smiles and turns his face toward the sea, feeling the wind play through his hair like his mother’s fingers. He wonders if the relief he’s feeling is profound enough that it could radiate out from him like body heat. He’d like it to be so simple.

“How is it going?” This question could mean a thousand things. Caduceus waits patiently until Fjord elaborates, “With Nott.”

It’s been not quite half an hour since the two of them went upstairs. Caduceus shrugs. “It’ll take a while.”

Fjord nods. Caduceus wonders if he is worried. Fjord and Nott don’t seem to get along, but — well. He had been worried about Colton. He waits, and after a while Fjord asks, “Do you think she’ll stay? If it works.”

Caduceus takes a slow breath of salt-tinged air. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think she knows.”

Fjord nods again, accepting but not satisfied. Trying to predict any actions ofthe Mighty Nein is a foolish task… “I think,” Caduceus says slowly, picking a careful path over rickety speculation, “her life has changed. She has changed. Even if her body is the same again — everything that’s happened to her, it wouldn’t just vanish.”

Fjord considers. The sound of the city, the music from downstairs, the distant waves, all blend in a background susurrus. “Do you think that’s why she hesitated?”he asks. “Afraid that she won’t… fit?”

He chuckles. “Maybe more afraid that she _would.”_ At Fjord’s confused look, he continues, “I think she hesitated because… part of her, at least, doesn’t want to go back. To the life and person she was before.” He shrugs, gentle. “Maybe it will help, to see that ‘back’ isn’t really an option. Even with the same body, she’s not the same.”

Fjord nods, again, looking out to sea. The sun has set but it isn’t fully dark yet; the evenings are long, here, in summer. Caduceus asks softly, “Do you want her to stay?”

“Yes,” he answers, frank, without bluster or embarrassment, and Caduceus is so proud it warms him root to tip. “I — I want her to do what’s right,” Fjord mutters. “I hope she’ll stay with us.”

Caduceus knows that if he mentions how glad Fjord has made him it will only get him flustered, so he just leans until their shoulders brush and says, “Me too.”

Fjord doesn’t move away. They stand at the balcony rail, shoulders just touching, until Fjord sighs and says, “All this about family, lately. I don’t… understand.”

Caduceus blinks. “No?”

“No.” He gazes out to sea. His eyes are faintly reflective in the dim light, like a cat’s. “I never had — one, even. Never had to choose.” He looks up at Caduceus, the sudden flash of his eyes almost startling. “You chose to stay,” he says, quiet. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Caduceus smiles easily. “Of course,” he says. “I’m not done yet. Not nearly.” He looks out to sea, the far-off waves, the breeze in his face. “There’s so much I still owe.”

A moment of quiet; Fjord, slightly choking, _“You_ owe?”

“Oh yeah.” He gestures expansively, as if he could indicate it all: the breadth of the ocean, the stars over Rosohna, the biting cold of a dragon’s lair, the shattered cathedral, cupcakes and moorbounders and wizards’ magic spires. Everything that he wouldn’t have, that he wouldn’t know, if not for the Nein and his beloved goddess’s quest. “So much.”

Silence. When he looks, Fjord’s face is as openly bewildered as Caduceus has ever seen. “I don’t understand,” Fjord says, _“at all,_ but. I’m glad. That you stayed.” His eyes dart quickly, back out to sea, neutral and distant.

Caduceus smiles. He slips his hand over Fjord’s; Fjord turns his palm, grasps, and Caduceus holds on. “Me too.”


End file.
